


Burn

by nanasteiger



Series: barman!Mario/student!Thomas [1]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-10
Updated: 2013-10-10
Packaged: 2017-12-29 01:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/999036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanasteiger/pseuds/nanasteiger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An andalusian beach, drunk talks and a bonfire it's all Mario and Thomas need (inspired by Ellie Goulding new single, Burn)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of a bigger collection i wrote in italian but i will try to translate soon (the base is an Alternative Universe where Mario is a barman seven years older than Thomas who just finished high school, all the stories that come before are not essential to understand the senso of this story but it could be useful so, if you understand italian you can read them on my lj: nana-believe.livejournal.com)  
> Enjoy! :)

We'll be raising our hands, shining up to the sky   
Cause we got the fire, fire, fire,   
And we gonna let it burn, burn, burn, burn.

Mario doesn’t even know when he exactly started to think about it, he just remembers Micha telling him about that week off he can take at the end of September, he remember the call from his father and suddenly he was with Thomas, with a cold cappuccino in his hands, and he was asking him to go to Spain with him. “You could tell this is your post diploma trip. I know it wasn’t your first choice and maybe, sometimes, it could be a little boring, but…” and Thomas was jumping and trying to step over the bar counter to hug him and kiss him with that huge pretty smile of his.

A couple of hours later, that day, everything was already booked –Mario was still not really sure if that crazy boy asked his parents at first and where he found all the money in so little time- and for all the next weeks all the had talked about was the funny fear to fly of Mario, what they had to take and was useless but Thomas insisted to bring, what the weather could be like –hot and wet, it’s always hot and wet-, that adorable excitement mixed to anxiety of Thomas to finally meet one of Mario’s parents. They even find the time to fight a little, too nervous and a bit scared, and they find a place to make peace in their own way.

 

He doesn’t even know how, on their third night, they are illegally starting a little bonfire on the beach –Mario was very happy they didn’t had to stay with his father in [Albuñán](http://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Albu%C3%B1%C3%A1n) and that he decided to meet at Motril for being closer to Granada, he didn’t had to drive more than an hour to take Thomas to the most gorgeous beaches of Spain- with an old lighter, tissues and some very old and ugly branches Thomas had found really interesting in the sand. He can’t understand it’s possible but when the first flame lights up and starts to colour the night it feels so good the both jump on their feet and yes, they are drunk but it doesn’t really matter. (The dinner with Mario’s father had been more unpleasant that they expected and that fruity Italian red wine was very _very_ good, especially if it had helped with to stand all the little complains he had to do about his life, his job and –even if more subtle- even his boyfriend).

Thomas now is laying with this back on the sand, eyes closed and a smirk on the face and he looks so peaceful he feels almost forced to bend down and kiss him on those parted red lips. When his eyelashes tremble he can catch a glimpse of that oh-I’m-so-in-love look that will never stop to surprise him. “We’ve got the fire” he whisper with a so little voice while his eyes go from his face to the bonfire and a hand is running lazy through his hair.

“Yeah” he pauses, give the flames a dubious look and feelings a strange swollen feeling in his mouth “it’s pretty unstable but it’s nice, isn’t it?”

“It is” Thomas answers even if that wasn’t a real question and starting looking at him as if Mario is the too young, too naïve boy that doesn’t understand and doesn’t know what he’s talking about. “But we” he repeats, pointing a long finger to his chest and the, harder, to Mario’s “we’ve got the fire” with a smile that seems to hide all the answers in the world.

He stands up –he’s barefoot and he can’t remember when and where both of them had lost their shoes-, getting closer to the fire and “we’ve got it let it burn” he keeps say with a straight face till a moment after he’s holding on his stomach laughing and, only then, Mario gets the reference, just a moment before Thomas is starting to sing one of those catchy songs he usually tries to make him listen to –and he actually listen sometimes, and sometimes he likes what he listen even if he could never tell the boy-.

“Go fuck yourself, I thought you were being serious for once in your life” Mario says, not really angry but a little annoyed from that childish attitude, upset because he really, for a second, thought he could understand something deeper that a pop song. He just shakes his head and let himself fall on the sand.

“Oh, but I was serious. And if you didn’t know yet, let me tell you. I really prefer you to fuck me”

If he blushes, he blames the wine –and all the alcohol that came after that- but he takes a deep breath and keeps listening Thomas when starts talking again. “I think it’s true in some way. Together, you and me, we have something special. We have this fire” he giggles when he says _fire_ once again, making the word rolls on his tongue “and that is, that keeps us warm and stronge and brave and dangerous. We are so dangerous, Mario, because we burn and we are this close to hurt ourselves, it’s so intense, don’t you feel that?”

Thomas walks when he speaks, moving his hands in the air, pacing around the bonfire but never leaving his eyes. He shivers, and Mario shivers with him, holding himself with those tiny arms of his. “I’m not scaring you, am I? I think I just want you to see with my eyes how much important, how much deep this thing is going.”

And Mario is not scared, and this is the real strange thing: he understands. He simply knows and doesn’t care, not about his father that wants to try being a parents when he doesn’t need it anymore, not about what he says about him and especially about Thomas, not the looks and the jokes and the paranoia and the fear, so he finds himself smiling but unable to say something, anything. Then is Thomas breaking the silence when he laughs and keeps singing, stepping closer to the bonfire “fire, fire, fire” he shouts into the night (that it not so different from their sky in Germany but it feels more warm, more and friendly) while Mario tries to pull him closer, letting him sit on his lap and trying to keep him calm.

“We got it let it burn” he gets to say, just in Thomas’ hair, and he feels a bit stupid but then his boyfriend finds his favourite position on his lap, facing him and pressing all his young body against Mario’s and he doesn’t think twice before starting kiss him hard. Hands are wandering and he knows je should so he tryes “we are on a fucking beach” he whisper between the shivers Thomas’ hands are sending to his spine.

“Who cares” his lips are on his neck and he’s smiling, too confident for how drunk he should be “there’s only the two of us”

“But we drank too much” he strives to keep his confidence but starting to melt quietly under the kissed and the touches and he’s a human being and he’s too much in love with Thomas to really be capable to resist him. He has never been good being the very grown-up man in this –and every- relationship (and yet he doesn’t know anymore how he could when the boy in front of him, even if looking so young, says all this confusing things and makes him feel like he should be the kid who has so much to learn. This fascinate him and makes him fall in love again and again, going deeper, in a place where seems impossible to get out).

“Have we?” when he looks up to him, Mario is not that sure anymore. He remembers the beer at that little pub he could swear looked like a place he used to go when he was fourteen and was trying to be cool and rebel and all that fucks, and he remember even the bottle of flavoured vodka Thomas had in that strange bag he always carries around since they landed in Spain. So now he has this too much sweet taste in his mouth but when Thomas kissed him he forgets, he can feel the wet feeling and the smell on his chest where _someone_ had spilled his last sip not so long ago but then Thomas’ pretty hands take the shirt off and all he can feel and smell and taste is his body so close, the heat and it’s amazingly intoxicant.

“Burn, burn, burn, burn” he says again but none of them is laughing anymore, the calm all over his face, looking so sober even while he says something so drunk. But Mario understand, he really understand, and tries to kiss him harder than ever, to touch him in all the places he _knows_ , to say without too many words that they are, what they meant.

And they make love without feeling the freezing breeze that comes from the sea, sitting on the sand and never breaking that precious eye contact, breathing hard but making no sound. Kissing every single sensible spot they can find on their face and neck and shoulder and chest (Mario takes his time to bite and lick that sweet twist Thomas’ shoulderblaze do when his hands are around his neck), not caring about the bonfire that starts to get smaller and weaker till it leaves the in the dark.


End file.
